


Meeting the Fiancée

by PineTrain



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 15:58:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13721082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PineTrain/pseuds/PineTrain
Summary: Takes place in @yaschiri Weirdmaggedon AU. Basically the idea is Mabel and Dipper do standard pinecest relationship, have kids, grow old, and then WABAM! Turns out that was what Mabel saw in the bubble instead of what the show had. So she's literally spent decades in this relationship only to be returned to her 12 year old self. She's understandably traumatized. Dipper has no idea what the hells going on except that he cant help her because he's somehow the problem and he doesn't know why. It's a rough story all around and I wrote what I figured would eventually happen with how things were progressing.Also, I wrote this late 2016, but I apparently forgot to post it here. Whoops...





	Meeting the Fiancée

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in @yaschiri Weirdmaggedon AU. Basically the idea is Mabel and Dipper do standard pinecest relationship, have kids, grow old, and then WABAM! Turns out that was what Mabel saw in the bubble instead of what the show had. So she's literally spent decades in this relationship only to be returned to her 12 year old self. She's understandably traumatized. Dipper has no idea what the hells going on except that he cant help her because he's somehow the problem and he doesn't know why. It's a rough story all around and I wrote what I figured would eventually happen with how things were progressing.
> 
> Also, I wrote this late 2016, but I apparently forgot to post it here. Whoops...

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway rumbled through Mabel’s window. She sighed and walked softly to see who it was. Leaning against the wall, she slipped a finger behind the curtain and moved it a quarter inch to the side. Enough that she could see who had pulled up from her room on the side of the house, but not enough that it didn’t look like it had simply drifted with the breeze that entered from the small opening at the bottom.

It was a method she’d learned over years of failed relationships. Sometimes boys tried the whole boombox-over-the-head trick or a variation after she inevitably broke up with them. She could only watch with pity and guilt as her father drove them off. She was putting them through this, spreading her pain in a vain attempt to move on.

Her therapist had encouraged her to do this. She thought maybe if Mabel tried to move back into the mindset of her teenage self she’d be able to start over. Grunkle Ford had agreed, as had Stan, though she sensed he had to be convinced into it. Mabel knew they had her best interests in mind but it felt like she was using the relationships like tissue paper to wipe away her tears.

She’d been able to love life again. To be energetic again. To work on projects and make friends and join the drama club. But even years of therapy couldn’t erase that nagging, gnawing itch deep within her. She could laugh with her friends until one told a joke she’d heard him say. She could be painting a picture when a goth walked by and the black reminded her of a veil she’d worn to a funeral. She could hear a child giggle and swear it was her son.

This life felt half-full, always missing what she wanted but could not have. Her real life. Her fake life, if she was honest. What does a teenage boy’s grand gesture of romance mean to someone who has grown old and learned to appreciate the small things. The boombox would have been amazing when she was twelve, but she yearned for something as simple as a warm cup of tea waiting when she came to watch TV with her beloved.

So she sat in her old bedroom. College had been better, being away from everyone and everything that reminded her. But once she was done, that hole had hurt too much to move on. Her parents understood and warmly accepted her back; her mother even joked about how she wouldn’t have “empty nest syndrome” anymore. It didn’t make it easier to admit this defeat, but Mabel knew she’d recover and leave eventually when she was ready. Today wasn’t going to make that time come any quicker though.

She watched as Dipper exited the driver side, walked around the car, and opened the door for Rebecca. She was a nice girl, good for him, liked his nerdy jokes and interests. Which made it all the harder to know that he’d dated her for three years. Three years that they’d never even met because it was so hard to know that fact. Rebecca was a girl who she only knew indirectly through stories from others and social media posts. A ghost haunting her because, as much as she wanted to, Mabel couldn’t hate Rebecca even if she was living the life Mabel wanted back.

She counted the seconds. Dipper was always so precise. He’d get to the doorbell exactly 15 seconds after leaving the car. She opened her window a few more inches the exact moment he rang it, the slight squeak covered by the noise of the bell. He probably wouldn’t have heard it anyways, but she didn’t take risks on this. It was one of her few, genuine pleasures in life: Hearing him talk naturally.

Whenever they were together, she heard the strain in his voice though he tried to cover it up. The confusion and pain of years of separation and never knowing the reason why had bit into him deeply. He sounded like a hollow imitation of the false man she loved and the real boy she had known. Mabel didn’t like putting him through that but she always hoped that maybe the next conversation could be jovial and fun like they had in her memories, real and fake. That they could somehow reset magically. Because at this point, after all this time, even if she ever got over her issues, the damage was done. Those times wouldn’t return.

So this was the closest she had. A snippet of a casual greeting to their parents before the door closed and voices were muffled through the doors. She would eventually go down and they would engage in forced pleasantries followed by the shadow of their former bond. Dinner would be served and Mabel would know that her mere presence muted the whole experience. Her parents and brother would never think to not have her there, but she knew that her problems weighed on them all and that made them weigh on her even more. It was a difficult experience for everyone involved but still one they did regularly, perhaps in that same vain hope that Mabel had that one day everything would go back to normal.

But when Rebecca came, Mabel was never in the house. She’d find some excuse and they wouldn’t have to play the same drama that night. She often wondered how those nights went, if she was even missed. If the family chatted and laughed the way they had over a decade ago. Her therapist told her it wasn’t good to obsess over those thoughts and run away, instead encouraging her to meet with Rebecca to try and move on.

Well, here she was, finally about to meet the woman who unknowingly stole her life from her. Mabel had to be here after the news had been announced. He’d proposed and they would be married later this year. That slim sliver of hope that maybe things would somehow go the same way her fake life had was finally gone. She accepted it, even if that final loss hurt more than any other before.

Mabel sighed and walked from the window. She’d get through this like she’d gotten through all these years, slowly and painfully. She opened her door and an old woman went to meet her new young sister.


End file.
